


carrying on

by LightSaberJoints



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Magic, No Tail or Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5651392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightSaberJoints/pseuds/LightSaberJoints
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you think it’s your fault?”<br/>I’m about to say no. But the word can’t reach my mouth and cotton sticks in my throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	carrying on

The first time I sneak up on him, it’s a couple of days after the Mage’s death, and I’m asleep in Penelope's bed when he comes over. He is in the kitchen helping himself to some tea when I come down, talking to Penelope in a hushed voice. 

“ **Make tea, not war** ,” I hear him spell and tea pours from his wand into a mug.

“Hey Baz.” I say to the back of him. The tea sloshes over the sides as he flinches in surprise.

“Merlin's beard, Snow.” He says. He looks over from the mess on the counter at me. It’s almost like he’s not looking at me, but seeing something curious and new. I make a face at him. Penelope doesn’t look up from her phone.

“Hi Simon. Glad to see you up.” She says, and I understand the bite. I guess I haven’t gotten out of bed that much lately. 

“I’ve been meaning to thank you, Penelope.” I appreciate all her families done for me. I hope she knows that. She looks up at me then, and lifts a corner of her mouth.

“How about lunch, guys? Now, and we can all talk.” She suggests, picking up Baz’s keys from the counter. Baz scowls up from the towel he’s using to soap up the tea. 

In the back of a small Panera, next to the fireplace and after a nice meal of soups and sandwiches, Baz tells me he’s going back for the last semester. Back to Watford. His hands on my thigh under the table. His eyes are peering at mine like this is something my opinion actually matters on. I don’t really know what to say and I’ve realized they’re both acting like the subject is in danger of setting me off. Like I can still do that.

“Of course. If that’s what you want.” I smile at him and slip my hand into his. And it is. At the end of the day, it’s his choice, not mine. He knows my choice.

~

“How is it that I can now sneak up on you? You use to be impossible to surprise.” I ask randomly, the night before he’s suppose to leave. 

“You smell different.” He’s falling asleep against me, shoving his cold hands into mine.

“What did I smell like before?”

He hums and I think he won’t answer.

“You just smelled like power. And fire. A very strong odor of brimstone.” He decides and I laugh.

“How flattering.”

“My existence is for the sole purpose of flattering the one and only, Simon Snow.”

“Do I smell better now?”

“Much. Kinda sweet. And brown? Like cinnamon sugar cookies.” He sounds exhausted and when I turn my head his way, his eyes are closed.

~

He’s really busy for the rest of the semester. That’s okay.

I kinda have a lot of shit to work through anyways. 

~

I kinda feel like it’s fourth year all over again. Depressed, misplaced, exhausted, irritable, confused…

~

“You should just go to bed.” I had whispered from my bed. It was fourth year and exams were the next day. I heard his head thunk onto his text book. He’d been at it for hours.

“Snow, you don’t understand the importance of studying.” His voice sounded muffled. “I’m aiming for the top of our class and I’m up against your little friend Bunce. I’ll be damned if she gets the best of me this year.”

“What will you need good grades for? You already have all the money in the world.” I retorted, feeling exhaustion fog my head.

“Money can’t guarantee an acceptance to Oxford.”

I barked a laugh. “You still dreaming about going to a uni? There’s nothing after this school but war, Baz.” I had looked up at him, with eyes red from exhaustion and a sarcastic smile on my lips. Fourth year had been a rough year. I had been fourteen and really truly coming to understand the wizarding world.  

Baz’s eyes widened at me and I shrugged and rolled over on my side.

~

“You should start skyping this physcatrist I know.” Mr. Bunce tells me randomly when I’m out checking out a dead spot with him.

“Oh. Me and Baz have talked about that. I don’t think so.”

“Maybe it’s not the thing for Baz. But you are two different people, Simon. Perhaps you need this, a person to talk to who doesn’t know you and hasn’t been through all of it with you. Maybe you need someone with a new perspective, someone to help you heal.”

The words hit me hard, and I find myself setting up a trial session.

“Simon, you’ve seen and been through things no man- much less child- should ever have to endure.” She tells me through a shitty computer skype screen. “Do you think it’s your fault?”

I’m about to say no. But the word can’t reach my mouth and cotton sticks on my throat.

~

Penelope looks at me up and down on the day of Baz’s graduation. When her eyes land on your smile, she smiles back.

“Let’s move in together.” I whisper as she fixes the cuffs on my suit and she smiles even bigger.

“Simon,” She murmurs back, “You’re… oh, merlin. Nothing can stop you.”

~

“Let me stick my cold feet next to you!” Baz demands from the other side of the couch.

He’s at a uni now. I live with my best friend, attend college myself, and my boyfriend comes over when he can. 

“Noo!” I kick at his feet. Penelope sighs from the chair, turning up the volume. He shrugs and I feel his icicle toes trying to climb in next to my feet in my flannel pajama bottoms.

“Oh spells, no!” I squeak. Penelope whips around at us.

“Figure your shit out! I want to watch this episode in peace!” 

I end up being the little spoon, with Baz’s cold feet up against my calf.

~

Our first time is in my room, the one at me and Penelope's place. She’s in America for the part of the summer with Agatha and Mica. And Baz’s in London with me and it’s a friday. 

His hand trailing up my back and lips devouring mine. I’m straddling his lap, and his other hand is on my neck. I must admit, I’m very very interested and he almost seems overwhelmed. 

“Oh- oh oh.” He breathes as I start rocking my hips down on his, and I can feel his dick getting harder against his zipper. He kisses my neck, open mouth and sloppy, and this is just incredible he never does that. I moan encouragement and suddenly his hands are underneath my shirt, pushing it up, and he’s gasping against my throat.

Were both kinda loud and juvenile but in my defense I haven’t done anything like this since seventh year with Agatha. I’m not really sure when Baz last did this or if he ever has. I’ve decided not to ask.

“Wait- wait-” He’s saying, breath hot and tongue sliding across my lips with the words. I whine but stop immediately, leaning against him and hips lifting away from the friction of his. His tongue drags across his bottom lip slowly and I can’t help but lean down to capture his tongue into my mouth with my own.

“Snow- wait a second-” He laughs against me. “Eager much?”

“ _ Yes _ .” I plead in his ear and his adam's apple bobs as he swallows my words.

So then he situates you two up, his hand wrapped around the both of you. And everything's shy, heavy, and sweet.

“Simon-” He pants right in my ear and I’m gone.

~

“I have reason to believe the Mage might of been your father.” She tells me gently.

“Why? Why would you ever think that?” 

“The evidence speaks for itself, Simon.” Her eyes are sympathetic and my world is breaking. 

I don’t tell Baz.

I think about it and decide not to say anything. My psychologist doesn’t bring the subject up and I know I’m in denial.

~

The beginning of junior year brings a letter from Agatha- which I don’t understand. She could've sent me an email. She has once or twice before.

But then I open it and the picture spills out like sand. 

I know almost immediately when I pick it up. It’s been spelled, subtly, and I feel Agatha’s magic like shallow waves. There are three young magicians in the photo.

Professor Bunce, looking young and liberated. Agatha’s magic bubbles inside me like sea foam and I know she got the photo from Penelope's mom. 

I also know the beautiful girl in the middle, with long, curly blond hair and eyes as bright as summer skies, resembles me, and in his youth, so does the Mage.  _ Lucy and Davvy.  _ I feel Agatha’s suspicions dance inside my head and I know she’s right. But I also know she doesn’t want me to turn this into a quest or mission.

_ I thought you deserved to know  _ it says on the back, in her swirly handwriting. And then her magic fades and it’s just me and a photo of my best friend’s mother and my parents at a school I can’t even stand to face anymore.

I want to drop it and run.

Spend a few more months in denial.

But I’m twenty now, and maybe it’s time to accept reality.

~

“You were right.” I say, when she picks up my skype call. My old psychologist looks surprised and tired.

“Simon, it’s good to see you after so long. And what is this I was right about?” She smiles, professionally.

“I believe the Mage was my father.”

“Would you think it best to start sessions again?”

“Oh- no.” I respond, eyes widened in surprise. “I just thought you deserved to know.”

~

An hour later, I hear the front door swing open and shut. I hear the rustling of Penelope.

“Simon? Simon! I’m back, and you would not beli-” Penelope stops and picks up the photo from the coffee table. Her eyes widen at the touch of Agatha’s magic.

“Agatha sent that.” I confirm for her and she spins around to me standing in the hallway.

“Oh Simon- how unthoughtful of her-” She starts.

“No, Penelope, I understand now.” I interrupt. “The Mage was my father.”

Her mouth opens but no words come out.

“And the girl in the middle- Lucy. That’s my mother.”

“How do you know? Did Agatha tell you?” She sounds concerned.

“Agatha spelled it and I just  _ know _ she's right.”

Penelope’s silent, her eyes sweet and lips pressed against each other slightly.

“Wanna see if Baz want’s to go to Panera?” I ask. 

He’s already sitting when we get there, hovering over his college textbooks and chin tucked beneath his red scarf. He hears us coming, and flicks up his eyes to me when I pull out the chair next to him.

“Hey babe.” He teases, lightly pressing a kiss on my lips. He tastes like caramel and mocha. I reach for his mug when he puts his nose back into his book.

After ordering, Penelope and I tell him about Agatha and her suspicions of the Mage and Lucy being my parents. He doesn’t seem surprised.

“How do you feel about it?” He asks me, textbook long forgotten on the extra chair.

“I think she’s right. It makes sense-” I say, closing my mouth when he interrupts me.

“No, Simon. I could’ve seen this a mile away, of course he’s your father. I meant how do you  _ feel  _ about it?”

I drag my tongue over my teeth and think. Nothing really comes up.

“I don’t really feel anything about it. The Mage is dead and my mother's… gone.”

“Do you have any typical-snow-restless-desire to go find her?”

I’m surprised he mentioned that too. Just like Agatha wanting me not to turn this into some children’s quest.

“No,” I say finally, shrugging and smiling at the same time. “I’m sure she’s happy wherever she is.” I don’t miss the worry in Baz’s eyebrows.

~

She’s much older and gentler. She lives in an expensive little cottage in central outside the city of San Francisco. She smiles at Agatha when Agatha gets out of her car and Lucy slides her front door open.

“Hello darling, I’m just about to feed my chickens. Would you like to help?” Lucy says, and smiles at Agatha like they know each other.

Inside her small home, the color yellow seeps from every corner and it lacks common household technology. Over a cup of rosemary tea, she tells Agatha how she knows her.

“I see you in my dreams.” The older women announces, like this is normality. 

“How?”

“Magic, love.”

“I thought you aren’t involved in the magical world?”

“I may have pushed it away, but magic works in mysterious ways.” When Agatha doesn’t respond, she gives a wise smile. “Agatha, I’m so happy you have found it.”

“Found what?”

“Freedom.” Agatha swallows at the word.

“I think you’re right. But I also think I need to know one last thing.”

“And what is that, dear?”

“Is Simon Snow your son?”

Lucy smiles sweetly and closes her eyes. “My rosebud son.”

~

“Simon?”

“Agatha?”

“I know for sure now. Lucy is your mother. The Mage was your father.”

“Oh.. Agatha… Thank you.” A beat. “But I knew you were right.”

“Do you want to know where she is?”

“My mother? Lucy?”

“Yes.”

Another beat. “I… I don’t think so.” 

~

“Dad, will you please show me again?” Ebeneza pleads, with a puppy dog face and big brown eyes. The doorbell rings, and I check the clock. Penelope’s not supposed to be here till tea. 

“Hold on, darling.” I try to stand up but she grabs my sleeve. The card trick fascinates her more than Baz’s actual magic. The only reason why I keep doing it is because  it infuriates him. And makes Ebb happy. “I’ll be back in a second, Ebb.”

I recognize the woman at the door and not because she is Penelope. 

She has short curly blond hair framing a square jaw and her skin hangs on her face a little. Her cheekbones are sharp enough to be considered a weapon

“Simon.” She whispers, eyes glassy and lips parted like she’s surprised to find me in my own house. Ebb hangs on to pant leg and my mouth hangs open.

“Lucy?” I find myself stuttering and she nods at the word. After a long silence, I move out of the doorway. “Why, come in. This is Ebeneza. Your granddaughter.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> sorry it's choppy and I have an awful habit of only writing certain scenes and hopping around soo  
> (also, is it me or is AO3's text formatting a pain in the ass?)


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